


Waking Up in Thedas

by Glory



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blackwall Misread that Situation, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, REALLY slow, Slow Burn, accidentally married, blame it on the alcohol, hints of jealousy, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 16:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glory/pseuds/Glory
Summary: “Oh yes they’re very passionately in love,” Josephine confirmed, her proper aristocratic tone lending heavy weight to the words. “In fact, it’s been quite the stir around Skyhold. I’m surprised it has not flown from these walls before now.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Just because I love knowing when a fic might be finished, I figured I'd update you all. This should be about 12 chapters when finished. I'm almost done writing it and just editing now, so look for frequent updates for the last few chapters.

**Chapter 1**

The ball was remarkable. Having grown up in the nomadic clans of the Dalish, Al’llana Lavellan had never seen anything so grand. The fact that the ball had been thrown for her was something she could scarcely wrap her head around. She’d never experienced such luxury in her life. 

Graceful servers threaded their way through the mass of dancing and laughing revelers. Lana snagged a flute of wine from a passing tray and sipped at the bubbly liquid. Champagne, yes. That was what she needed to put her more at ease. A little alcohol never hurt anyone. 

She could not have been more wrong. 

The evening had started out splendidly. She had met in the War Room with the rest of her advisors prior to the start of the ball. Josephine had fussed over her hair and Leliana had stuffed her feet into a pair of truly uncomfortable shoes. She’d never give the Spymaster the satisfaction of her true opinion, however uncomfortable, they  _ were _ gorgeous. 

Even Commander Cullen had stopped short when he saw her. He rubbed at the back of his neck while telling her she looked quite lovely. 

She was nervous, yes. But still confident. She was the Herald of Andraste for Maker’s sake. She could surely handle one little ball. 

Turns out, not so much. 

Josephine left the room first the better to introduce them all. 

Leliana left next. 

She waited quite impatiently next to the Commander, trying her hardest not to stare at the way his jacket seemed to barely contain his broad shoulders. Or the way his breeches seemed just a bit too snug in the arse. 

Cullen was eventually introduced and he gave her a small bow and a charming smile before he left her alone in the council chambers. 

In all honesty, she was only alone for a moment, but in that instant she seemed to think up about one hundred different ways she could cock tonight up. She was not as quick on her feet as Josephine, nor so shrewd as Leliana. Cullen was commanding and possessed of a great confidence. She was quickly realizing that she only had to say or do the wrong thing and be observed by the wrong person and the reputation of the Inquisition could be damned. 

_ Fuck. _

Her name was called,  _ Al’llana Lavellan, First of Clan Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, Her Lady Inquistor _ ,  _ Closer of Rifts and Destroyer of Demons  _ and shit was that a mouthful. 

She took a deep breath and attempted to ignore the sweat trickling down the open back of her dress. Hopefully, no one would notice. 

Once she stepped outside the door to the council chambers she was relieved to see Blackwall just off to her left. The stately Gray Warden offered an arm to her and she took it gratefully as she let herself be steered toward the throne. 

So. Many. People. 

Every eye was on her and while she’d been called Worship and Herald for some months now, the large gathering was making her extremely uncomfortable. 

25 steps. That’s all it took to reach the throne at the front of the room. Blackwall was bowing and backing away to stand next to Josephine at the left of the throne. Cullen and Leliana were to the right. 

As gracefully as she could muster, Lana sat down in the throne, back straight. She was supposed to say something. Josephine had made her practice it.  _ What was it? _

The room was falling silent and still she could not remember.  _ Andraste’s tits _ . 

Cullen cleared his throat, cutting his eyes towards her, and mouthed something at her. She stared for only a moment, before lifting an arm to the gathered crowd. “Welcome to Skyhold! Home of the Inquisition. Please, enjoy your evening!” 

The crowd began to applaud and Lana figured she couldn’t have mucked that up to badly even if it wasn’t exactly what Josephine had in mind. Cullen shot one of his half smiles at her and made as if to join her when suddenly Blackwall was at her side, once again proffering his elbow to her. 

“A drink, my lady?” he asked politely. 

Gods, yes. A drink would be lovely. She must have looked a tad too eager because Leliana gave her a sideways glance and Josephine frowned openly. Well, Josephine was probably frowning because she messed up the speech. Regardless, the music had started and the party was now in full swing. 

The first drink had been just the thing to help her forget about all the stares and whispers. 

The second drink was what she needed just to be able smile without it feeling forced. Or looking like a she was baring her teeth in pain. 

Varric was telling stories near his usual perch next to the fireplace and she let herself listen, spell bound at the way he wove his tales. She laughed loudly at all the raunchiest bits and attributed the warmth in her cheeks to the roar of the fire. 

Dorian swept past eventually, looking extremely dashing and very in his element. He grabbed her hands and pulled her along with him into a dance. Luckily, her elven grace allowed her to pick up the dance quickly and she acquitted herself of the steps quite well. Three, four dances later she finally left the dance floor in search of something to wet her throat. 

The third drink was on purpose. The fourth drink was an accident. Bull had smiled and handed her a goblet that sloshed a bit over her hand. He laughed, told her to keep it in the cups and then poured something from a small flask right on top. She was forced to drink quickly to keep the goblet from overflowing onto her dress and she laughed loudly when Vivienne gave her a scandalized look. 

Finishing her drink, she was about to move back towards the dance floor when she heard cheers from outside the main entrance. Lana did not quite stumble as she made her way towards the sounds of celebration, but she was not as lithe on her feet as usual. 

“I should scold you, you know,” a voice piped up from behind her as she peered out the entrance. 

She whirled around quickly, blood rushing to her head, and she would have lost her feet if not for the steady hand of the Commander on her waist. 

“What?” she asked, peering up at him owlishly. The shoes Leliana has forced on her put her line of sight directly at that delicious looking scar on his lip and Lana blinked to clear the not so pure thoughts that suddenly ran through her mind. “Scold me?”

“Andraste’s Herald? Pissed on wine. And at her own ball? For shame.” His lip quirked up in amusement and Lana smiled. 

“Not pissed. Pleasantly buzzed.” 

“Mmm…” he murmured, his voice low, “I have a secret.” His head tilted towards her, smirk still on his very handsome, face. Again her eyes darted towards that scar. Those lips. 

He leaned in close and she forced herself to meet his eyes. “And what’s that?” she asked, mimicking his whisper. 

“I am  _ absolutely _ pissed!” A grin broke out on his face then and she suddenly realized that his arm was still around her waist, his warm hand splayed possessively over her hip. “And you, my Lady Inquisitor, look utterly stunning.” 

Lana gaped at him, too flustered to form words and Cullen threw his head back and laughed. “Come, let’s see what the commotion is about!” 

\--

The Commander of the Inquisition’s army grabbed Lana’s hand and dragged her down the steps to the courtyard. 

Cullen meant what he said, she did look absolutely ravishing. And he was pretty sure he’d caught her paying just a little too much attention to his mouth. Though, the wide eyes at his statement of her beauty made him think that he had overstepped his boundaries. Instead of flushing red and stammering out an apology he did the first thing he thought of, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the festivities happening on the small quad. 

She followed him easily and Cullen smiled back at her. Lana returned his grin as they made their way to the first landing.

A circle of perhaps 100 people was gathered on the lawn, surrounding three different couples and some type of cleric or shaman. 

“What’s happening, d’you think?” The Inquisitor asked, her words running together only slightly. “Some type of ceremony?” 

“I don’t know. Let’s have a closer look, my lady.”

Her small hand was warm in his and he was glad she hadn’t let go yet. He drained the rest of the drink in his other hand, set the goblet down on a ledge and urged her forward. They made their way carefully down the rest of the staircase and into the crowd. 

The assemblage was an odd mix of reverence and excited party-goer. The mood was definitely festive, but also somehow deferential. Perhaps that had to do with the sermon that was going on. At least, that’s what Cullen assumed it was. 

The crowd let them in, adjusting around them as they made their way forward. The shaman was actually a woman. A witch perhaps? She was some type of spiritual leader, regardless. Her back was bent with age, but she moved lightly among her people. 

Three couples knelt before her. The women all wore flowers in their hair and the men wore garlands around their throats. 

The shaman’s voice was extremely melodic and seemed to be speaking as much to the couples in front of her as the crowd around her. 

Her voice was rising and falling as if in song, and she began to tap the staff she carried in her right hand along the ground. As if it was some sort of signal a drum started to beat somewhere in the distance, and then a bell, finally a harp joined in and then the crowd started humming. 

Cullen pulled Lana into him swaying slightly with the music. He was pleased when she didn’t pull away. He wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable, but he’d be damned if he didn’t use the ball as an excuse to touch her just a bit.  

The shaman’s words seemed to reach a crescendo and her left hand dipped into a pouch at her waist. When her hand reappeared she held a great carved tusk. Gripping the tusk at its point, she shook it above her head, and some type of glittering liquid rained out over the heads of the couples in front of her. 

The Inquisitor was enraptured, staring unabashedly at the performance and gripping tightly at Cullen’s jacket. He took the moment to study her without her notice. The sun had set some time ago, but torches scattered throughout the courtyard leant her face an otherworldly glow. The tattoos on her cheeks seemed to shimmer in the torchlight and her mouth turned up into a smile as droplets from the great carved tusk began to sprinkle over the crowd when the shaman turned and danced around the circle. 

The music rose to a fevered pitch and the shaman held up both hands into the night’s air. Her words were lost over the sound of the music, but as she thrust her hands downward, the music cut off completely leaving the entire crowd in silence. 

Three heartbeats. 

That’s how long the silence lasted before the entire crowd burst into cheers! The three couples on the ground in front of the shaman reached for one another and kissed passionately as the crowd hooted and hollered around them. 

All around, people were hugging and laughing and screaming in excitement. Lana looked up at him, a smile of absolute wonderment on her face and Cullen stared back, his smile matching her own. He hugged her close to him, as jubilant as the crowd around them. 

For the second time that night Cullen caught the Inquisitor staring at his mouth. And so, emboldened by wine and truly and wonderfully caught up in the moment, he bent his head to hers and kissed her soundly.  

That she kissed him back was probably the most wonderful thing to happen to him in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lana awoke the next morning when her blankets were ripped off her in a most inappropriate and, frankly, violent manner. 

Rolling over to assess the cause of the disturbance, she groaned at the throbbing in her head, and closed her eyes tightly. 

“What did you do?!” 

Leliana’s voice was harsh. Harsher than she’d ever heard it before and Lana opened her eyes to search out the spymaster. 

“Wha-“ her throat was dry, her head was pounding, and it was absolutely freezing without her blankets. Sitting up, she groped blindly for the goblet next to her bed, hoping it still had some water left in it. 

Leliana whisked the goblet off of the table and stamped over to the pitcher in the corner. Filling it with water she thrust it into Lana’s hands none too gently. 

Once she’d downed the entire goblet, Lana cleared her throat and tried again. 

“What are you going on about? I thought I acquitted myself quite nicely last night, by the by. I shortened Josie’s speech a tad. But all in all, a nice night.”

Leliana’s face was red and Lana was surprised there wasn’t steam coming out of her ears. “A nice night? Just what about what happened with the Commander would make you call last night nice?” 

“Cullen?” Lana asked, confused. She remembered dancing, a lot of dancing, and wine, too much wine. She had a vague recollection of Cullen looking down at her, golden eyes twinkling in the star light, his arm tight around her waist. 

Leliana seemed to be waiting for her to come to it on her own. Her arm wheeled in a gesture of encouragement. “And?”

She dug the heel of her hand into her eye, rubbing furiously as she fell back onto the pillow. Cullen smiling. Music playing. Humming. “He told me I was beautiful,” she breathed. Though Lana had a feeling that was  _ not _ what Leliana was referring too. 

“Well, I should hope he thinks you are beautiful, since he bloody well married you!” 

“WHAT?!” she yelled, sitting bolt upright in the bed. 

\--

Cullen had no recollection of climbing the ladder to his loft. In fact, he had very little recollection of anything at all beyond a truly massive tankard of ale. 

Sun was streaming through the broken boards in his ceiling and based on their strength he had to have slept later than was usual. Most days he’d be up with the dawn, but right now he wished he could just roll over and go back to sleep. 

Throwing an arm over his eyes he tried to assess the last thing he remembered. Lana. Her eyes tracing his face, staring at his mouth, her body pressed up against his and… 

“Maker’s breath,” he groaned. 

“She’s going to kill you,” a voice said suddenly. Cullen started and rolled off the bed, away from the sound, before he realized it was Cole. Well, he might not be a Templar anymore, but his reflexes were still there. 

“Lana?” Cullen asked the spirit boy from the floor. Cole was perched on a beam near the ceiling. 

“No. Mistress of crows. Might want to run. She’s on her way.” And just like that, Cole was gone, quick as he appeared. 

Sighing, Cullen picked himself up off the floor and splashed some water on his face. He felt like death warmed over. But if he didn’t want to face whoever was going to kill him in his small clothes, he’d better get moving. 

Looking at his armor, Cullen contemplated shrugging it on and then changed his mind. Soft leather trousers and a linen jacket would have to suffice. He wet his hands in the basin and then ran them through his unruly curls, trying to tame the mess. 

He slid down the ladder just as his door opened and one of Leliana’s scouts entered. “Commander, the War Council has been convened.” 

Cullen nodded, “I’ll be just a moment.” 

The scout saluted, turned on his heel, and then vanished through the door. 

Cullen sighed and moved to his desk to pick up some reports he wanted to discuss with the council and noticed a bottle of wine sitting prominently on his desk. He picked up the bottle, puzzled. Affixed with a red ribbon was a note that simply read, “Congratulations.” The wine was a very expensive vintage. Tevinter. Most puzzling, indeed. 

Setting the bottle back down, he grabbed the reports he needed and headed down the battlements to the main keep. 

Cutting through Solas’ chambers he nodded at the elf in greeting and was met with only a glare. 

Once into the main hall, since cleaned of remnants of last night’s soiree, he waved to Varric . The dwarf grinned at him broadly and slapped him heartily on the back. “Nice work, Curly.” 

Cullen was getting the distinct impression that he was out of the loop on something and picked up his pace, jogging towards the council chambers in haste. 

\--

Leliana was done yelling. Now, she was simply glaring at her over the tip of a dagger that she insisted needed to be sharpened  _ right this very instant _ . 

Josephine had a worried frown on her face and was wringing her hands as she paced back and forth in front of the table. 

Lana leaned on the table in front of her, her head bowed, as she contemplated how the evening had gotten so far away from her. And her head was still pounding. 

The door opened and Lana lifted her head to watch as Cullen made his way in, a leather folder grasped in one large hand. Lana was suddenly struck by a memory of that hand gripping her ass tightly, pulling her against his hard body, her mouth fused to his – 

She gasped when Cullen flinched, flinging the leather folder up and in front of his face as Leliana’s dagger sliced through the air in front of him sticking right into the center of the folder. 

So calmly she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, Cullen yanked the dagger out of the folder, flipped it around by its point and handed it back to Leliana. 

“I’m to assume by that greeting that I committed some type of faux pas last night. Would you ladies like to fill me in on just what it is that occurred?”  

Lana snorted and then laughed. Leliana glared. Josie continued wringing her hands. 

“So neither of you remembered?” Josephine asked, stepping in front of Cullen, probably to prevent Leliana from trying to stab him again. 

“Remember what?” Cullen asked just as Lana announced, “We didn’t  _ know.”  _

“Know what?” Cullen demanded. “Someone better fill me in right now because it’s been one hell of a morning.” 

“You and she” Leliana announced, pointing first at Cullen and then at Lana, “Got married last night.” 

Cullen stared at her for just a moment before a deep laugh tore from his throat. Tossing the now ruined leather folder onto the table he smiled, “That’s preposterous. We did no such thing.” 

“That’s what I  _ told _ them!” Lana shouted, throwing up her hands in frustration. 

Josephine looked down at her tablet and then back up to Cullen as if to check her information, “I’m afraid that I have witnesses. One hundred and thirty witnesses to be exact! They saw you two, kissing at the end of the Ceremonial Circle!”

Cullen ducked his head, scratched at the back of his neck. “Yes, well. We might have… had a bit too much to drink and perhaps we kissed last night but we certainly did not wed!”

Lana looked towards him, just now taking in his appearance. His hair was curled instead of tamed back, his plate was missing, and he was wearing a thin linen jacket and tight, tight breeches. Maker’s breath, why were his breeches always so tight? 

“But you did!” Leliana shouted, “Everyone saw you. You stood in the circle and participated in the ceremony. That makes you wed by the laws of Rivain!” 

“Rivain?” Cullen shot back, “We’re not in Rivain. And neither of us is Rivaini so just how can we be wed?” 

“You’re not of Rivain,” Josephine agreed. “But Lana is Dalish. And her people and the Rivaini are very much intertwined, there should be no way she didn’t know what was going on last night.”

“I was drunk,” Lana cut in, “And they were  _ not _ speaking Elven. And I don’t even  _ speak _ Rivaini. Josephine, this makes no sense. How can we possibly be held accountable for this?” 

Cullen was raking his hands through his hair, mussing it up even further, now looking extremely agitated. “Yes, do explain how this is at all some type of binding marriage ceremony.” 

“The Rivaini came to pledge their support to the Inquisition.” Josephine’s voice took on a lecturing tone. 

“This is a very great boon since they almost always remain neutral when it comes to politics. The night of the ball they gathered enough of their people for a Ceremonial Circle to be held – there are many specific conditions which need to be in place for this Circle to be held. Conditions that were met in their entirety last night.” The look she pressed upon them was significant in its severity. 

“Four couples were married last night. Three Rivaini couples and  _ you _ . The Seer was thrilled to see you among her people. She considers it a great omen and a great honor that the Commander and Inquisitor of the Inquisition deigned to be married by a hedge witch. Don’t you see what you’ve done?” 

Cullen’s face was the very picture of apologetic. “This is my fault,” he muttered. “La- Inquisitor, please forgive me. I never meant-“ 

“There will be time for apologies later,” Leliana cut in, “And I expect very many apologies. Groveling would not be amiss. But right now we need to figure out a plan of action.” 

“Action?” Cullen asked, “Maybe an annulment?” 

“Absolutely not,” Josephine responded, her voice as firm as Lana had ever heard it. “We will not be doing anything that might upset the Rivaini speaker. Their help is invaluable and the Inquisition needs them as an ally.”

“So what?” Lana broke in finally, “You want us to just stay married? Play house for the benefit of these Rivaini?” 

“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” Josephine said, nodding decisively. “I’m glad you see reason.” 

Cullen threw his hands up in the air, “Do I get no say in this whatsoever?” 

“You got plenty of say in it last night when you decided to act like a love-struck schoolboy instead of the Commander of the Inquisition’s Army,” Leliana’s voice was chill, her words dripping with disdain. “Now, you will deal with the fall out of your actions. Both of you.” 

Lana was not spared Leliana’s glare as the Spymaster marched out of the room. 

Josephine sighed, picked up the ruined reports from the table, and fled after her. “I will speak with her. She will not stay angry for long.” 

Lana watched the door shut behind the Ambassador and then leaned over the desk resuming her earlier posture, her head was throbbing and the room was spinning. 

Cullen took a step towards her, arm outstretched, “Are you –“

She tried to turn away from him, but she wasn’t fast enough. She hurled on her new husband’s boots. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Cullen really shouldn’t be so hard on himself. Thrice this morning his reflexes were tested and thrice he persevered. Of course, dodging the contents of Lana’s stomach was not quite the same as stepping out of the way of a thrown dagger, but it had to count for something. 

Looking around the room, he spotted a tray of refreshments probably left over from their last council. Picking up a napkin, he handed it to her with one hand, the other hand coming up to rub at her back. 

“Feel better?”

“Hardly.” 

She wiped at her mouth and stepped back from the mess on the floor. “How angry do you think Leliana would be if I just left that there?”

Cullen laughed, the absurdity of the situation finally starting to sink in. “She can’t get much angrier than throwing a dagger at my face, so I’d say it’s probably fine.” 

He moved back to the tray and poured a goblet of stale water for her. She took it gratefully, and rinsed out her mouth. 

“What are we going to do, Cullen?” 

His name on her lips was a plea and Cullen wanted for nothing more than to snap his fingers and fix the situation he had caused by his rash decisions. 

“First, we’re going to get out of this room. We’ll figure out our next steps later.” 

Lana smiled at him and Maker help him if he didn’t love to see that smile directed at him. “Well, my lord husband. Perhaps you’d like to see your wife to her chambers?” 

Cullen couldn’t help the flush that spread across his face, so he bowed gallantly to hide it. “It would be my pleasure, dearest wife.” 

He offered her his arm in jest and to his surprise she took it as they exited the room. 

When the heavy door shut behind them with a loud bang it seemed as if every eye in the hall turned towards them. Cullen ducked his head from the scrutiny, but to his surprise Lana held hers high, meeting the stares head on. 

A whistle that sounded suspiciously like Sera echoed off the walls and then everyone was cheering for the newlyweds. Shouts of “Herald” and “Commander” and “Blessed Be” boomed through the hall. 

Taking a cue from the Inquisitor at his side – his  _ wife _ – Cullen straightened, nodded at the crowd and then made for Lana’s quarters attempting to keep his pace as casual as possible.  _ Maker help them both. _

\--

The second that the door had shut behind them, Lana sagged against him, the brave façade failing. 

She climbed the steps wearily and he trailed after her not quite sure what their next step should be. 

Lana excused herself, moving to the washing chamber to rinse her face thoroughly and Cullen found himself at a loss. Seating himself on a settee in the corner, he dropped his head into his hands. How could he have been so stupid? 

He had married the Inquisitor –  _ Lana _ – and Maker help him, but part of him didn’t mind the idea  _ at all _ . Memories of last evening’s festivities were becoming clearer in his mind and if they weren’t in such a predicament he had no doubt he’d be doing his damndest to try to feel her pressed against him once more. 

But now? How could he attempt to court someone he had  _ married?  _ And wasn’t it possible she was simply drunk and caught up in the moment? Maybe she was regretting ever having spoken to him last night. 

She stepped back into the room then and he raised his eyebrow at her in question. 

“You look like I feel,” she laughed, then turned on her heel and flopped face first onto the bed. 

“Lana,” he started, but she cut him off. 

“Do not apologize to me, Cullen. I am just as much to blame for last night as you are. Let’s just skip this part okay? I’m sorry, you’re sorry. Let’s just try to make the best of it?”

“Make the best of it?” 

“Do you have any other ideas?” Her face was muffled by the feather mattress. 

“We could draft a statement. Explain-“ 

“Josie has already explained why that’s a terrible idea for the Inquisition. How about this? How about we just pretend to be married until the Rivaini leave and then we can just… get on with our lives once Skyhold is free of them?” She sounded weary. 

“I suppose… It’s not the worst plan. So then, after they leave we just… go about our business as if we’re not married?”

She rolled over to face him, “Cullen, no matter what Josephine says, we are  _ not _ married. Do you  _ feel  _ married? Because while last night was very nice, I certainly don’t feel like a blushing bride.” 

Cullen couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face at her words. “Last night was very nice,” he agreed. “This morning was less pleasant. Regardless, I think you make a very fetching bride.” 

Her eyes widened slightly at that and Cullen ducked his head, breaking eye contact. “Fine then, Inquisitor. I agree to your proposal. We will play along with this charade until the Rivaini have left us.” 

A slight sigh of relief escaped her at his agreement and she fell back onto the bed with a huff. “Wonderful. And I have a most excellent plan for the day. Everyone will expect the newlyweds to take to their chambers for the day. I’ll have some food sent up – I’m suddenly starving - and we can just hide in here. Forever. They’ll never know we’re not up here having our way with one another.” 

Cullen choked on a cough at her statement and, for lack of anything better to say, simply nodded his assent. 

\--

By the time the evening rolled around, Lana was feeling much better about the entire situation. They had sent for food and then Cullen had very loudly demanded that they be disturbed for nothing less than Andraste herself. 

They ate quickly, talking of inanities – the weather, the newest foal in the stable, Sera’s latest prank – and then Lana had claimed exhaustion and taken to bed. 

Cullen had taken over her desk, arranging things as he saw fit, going through the reports stacked a mile high. She got duplicates of nearly everything her advisors did, so while the redundancy normally annoyed the crap out of her, today it actually came in handy. 

She didn’t sleep, not really. She fell in and out of sleep, acutely aware of Cullen barely 15 feet away, boots kicked off, quill scratching at vellum, occasionally humming or dictating to himself as he scribbled notes. 

The domesticity of the day struck her and she found that she actually  _ liked _ having him here. It was quite soothing to hear him putter about the room, seemingly at his ease. 

Lana felt terrible about what had happened last night. The marriage, Maker knew, was not her best work. However, thinking back to the evening she found she was only left regretting that he had kissed her in the middle of the Ceremonial Circle. Not that he had kissed her at all. 

If she was being honest with herself, the real reason she couldn’t sleep is that she kept replaying certain events in her head. The fact that the star of those memories was only feet from her seemed to make them worse. Sure she had had one or two daydreams about that scar on his lip, but now that she knew what it actually felt like, tasted like, she found that she only wanted to feel it again. 

And how could she? Obviously, Cullen felt terrible about last night. He blamed himself. And while she did not blame him at all, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe him kissing her had been something he regretted. He did confess that he was snockered off his arse. Maybe the whole thing was one big drunken accident? 

At one point during her rest, someone had knocked on the door. Cullen had stormed down the stairs in a delightful state of disarray, boots off, shirt unlaced and loudly chastised whoever it was that the Inquisitor was  _ not _ to be disturbed. 

She never did find out who it was or what it was about, but she figured that the Inquisition could survive one day without her. 

Stretching, she finally sat up in bed and ran a hand through her hair. She probably looked a fright, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to care. Cullen was back on the settee, papers propped up against his lap, the light from a small lantern increasing the failing light from the setting sun. 

“Awake already, I see?” 

“Already? I slept half the day away!” 

“The entire day, more like it.” He put the papers aside and stood to stretch. As he did so, his linen shirt rode up ever so slightly and Lana was given a glimpse of his taught stomach. Maker preserve her, she was married to a  _ god _ .  

“Sleep well?” 

She tore her eyes away from that strip of skin and hastily looked at his face. Mistake. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen her gaze drift down his person. “Uh. Yes. Well. Very, uh, restful.” 

Cullen chuckled and turned back to the settee gathering up his papers and placing them on her –  _ his _ – desk. 

“Do you feel up to making an appearance at dinner? Give the Rivaini something to talk about?” 

She swallowed thickly. What had she gotten herself into? “If we must, we must.” 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Lana retreated to the bathing chamber to freshen up for dinner and Cullen sent a runner for a few of his things. By the time she appeared from the chamber dressed in a simple dress Cullen had three jackets draped across the bed as he contemplated which one to wear. 

“Trouble deciding?” Lana asked him as she laced up a pair of soft leather boots. 

“Well… I’ve never been married before. I’m not sure what it is a husband wears.” 

He’d changed his boots to a more militaristic pair determining that if he wasn’t going to wear his armor to dinner he could at least still look the part of a Commander. The soft linen shirt was still unlaced at his collar, a small concession to comfort he figured he could enjoy on his honeymoon. 

Lana came over to stand next to him and surveyed the jackets. “Red,” she said decisively. “Commanding, most definitely. It shows that you’re completely confident in your appearance.” She picked the jacket up and handed it to him, sweeping the other two off the bed and heaping them onto a dressing dummy in the corner. She muttered something under her breath and then blushed bright red, but Cullen hadn’t been able to make it out. 

He smiled at her anyway, sliding his arms into the red jacket. He started to attend to the laces on his shirt when Lana held up a hand. “No. Leave it loose. You look much more relaxed that way.” 

He glanced down at the laces and then shrugged, letting them fall. “As you wish.” 

Once it appeared they were both ready and could put it off no longer, Cullen offered his arm and they set off, into the unknown. 

\--

Dinner went well. The Rivaini seer was there, a big grin on her creased face that never seemed to waiver. She didn’t speak much of the common tongue and instead simply beamed at them across the table, occasionally leaning down to say something to her apprentice who would translate for her. 

“Seer Bernase heaps blessings upon you,” the young girl said at one point. “The gods are pleased with your marriage and have surely blessed your union.” 

Cullen had shifted uncomfortably at that, but Lana had determined she’d not insult these people further and simply placed her hand in his and smiled up at him.

In fact, things were going so well at dinner that it caught the Inquisitor completely by surprise when, towards the end of the meal, Dorian stood up at his end of the long table and began to clink the tines of his fork against the rim of his goblet. 

Cullen’s hand squeezed hers tightly when Dorian stood and when she looked to him for an explanation he merely shook his head and muttered, “Tevinter custom.” 

Lana turned back to Dorian in time to see him bow to the room, goblet held high. “Attention, attention! I would like to take a moment to honor our illustrious leaders on their sudden, yet not unexpected, marriage! Commander, Inquisitor, your love for one another is remarkable to behold. We wish you nothing but health and happiness all the days of your lives!” 

The room applauded and then everyone started clinking their silverware against their glasses. Lana looked around, confused, and noticed Cullen’s cheeks were bright red. 

Shouts of “Kiss! Kiss!” startled her and then Cullen was placing a gentle kiss on her cheek in front of the entire room. 

“Not like that!” Dorian yelled jovially from down the table. “Kiss her properly!” 

She turned to Cullen to try to understand just what was going on and was met with his mouth on hers. It was better than she remembered, that mouth. Warm and firm, and tasting lightly of spiced apples. She could swear the din of clanking cutlery and shouting nobles was reduced to nothing more than a quiet buzz in the moments that his lips were pressed to hers. She felt herself sighing into his kiss, melting slightly against him, onlookers be damned. 

He broke away, though, too suddenly and without warning. Cullen ducked his head, shot her a sheepish look and then raised his glass to Dorian. The mage was looking much too pleased with himself for her liking. 

Dinner ended not long after that and Lana was grateful for an excuse to escape the main hall when Josephine approached them for a quick confab. 

Lana directed them to her quarters, pulling the pins from her hair as Josephine started lobbing questions at her. “Do the Dalish change their names after marriage? Will they accept Cullen into the clan? Did Cullen know that a small holding in Honnleath had been bequeathed to him by the King of Ferelden as thanks for his work in the Inquistion?” 

“Josephine, why is any of this relevant?” Lana asked, bewildered. 

“For the announcement, of course. I have runners ready to distribute it first thing tomorrow morning. We cannot have Orlais or Ferelden thinking we didn’t mean to announce your marriage properly – as sudden as it was.” 

“Announce? But… why?” Cullen asked, clearly perturbed. 

“Well, why wouldn’t we? Already some groups of nobles have left Skyhold and more will be departing in the next few days. If we don’t get ahead of this, it will appear as if we are keeping secrets from our allies.” 

“And.. that’s bad?” Lana confirmed. Honestly, at this point, she didn’t even care anymore. Within a week she’d be back on the road with her compatriots, closing fade rifts, killing red Templars and otherwise doing the Inquisition’s work. What did it truly matter? 

Cullen, however, was not so resigned to their fate. “Ambassador, I really don’t understand why we need to make any announcements. Can’t we just let this fade away? You know that I am one hundred percent committed to the Inquisition, but this is just taking things a little too far.” 

Josephine drew in a breath, undoubtedly ready to lecture them both on just what their blunder would cost the Inquisition, but Lana cut her off. Raising a hand in surrender, she turned to Cullen. She was tired and this was her fault. And apparently, being married to her, even if in name only, was too much for Cullen to endure. 

“Commander, I’m really sorry for what this must be costing you. You surely wished to marry someone for love and not convenience. So if it makes it any easier for you, know that there is a very great chance I’ll not survive much longer against Corphyeus and his arch demon. Then you will be free of me, free of this sham and can live your life as you see fit.” 

Josephine gasped at her words and quickly set about reassuring her that she would be just fine. She had the might of the Inquisition at her back and would prevail-

But Cullen. Cullen looked as if she had struck him. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and fled the room. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

She intended to die did she? Bloody woman! Just what was her problem anyway? 

He stormed out of the Inquisitors quarters and cut through Solas’ study. The elf was standing at his desk, scroll in hand. The same sneer from this morning, still on his face. 

“Lover’s quarrel?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain. “So soon?” 

Cullen was tempted to punch the elf in his stupid, smug head, but held a tight rein on his temper. Instead, he shot him the glare he used on unruly recruits and continued on to his office. 

A brisk chill hit him as he stepped onto the battlements and he savored the biting wind. Cullen was so unspeakably angry, and he didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about it. 

He pulled the door open to his office and was greeted by a sight that enraged him further. Boxes sat all around. His shelves were mainly intact and his desk was blessedly still there, but all of his personal possessions had been boxed up. Two workers were carrying a large chest that held his spare armor and weapons. 

“What in the bloody hell is going on here?!” he demanded of the startled workers. 

They both blanched at his fury, but continued on with their work, moving to the now opened door. “Mistress Leliana has taken the liberty of having your things moved to the Inquisitor’s quarters, Commander.”

“Fade-touched women,” he cursed as the men continued on their way. “Fucking, fuck, fuck!” 

Less than twenty-four hours ago he had been dressed in his finest coat, drinking Ferelden ale and wondering if he’d ever have the courage to tell Lana he thought he was falling for her. And now? Now he learned he’d married the blasted woman, she was on some type of suicide mission, and every bleeding thing he did turned out to be the wrong thing. 

Cullen sank down into his desk chair, his mind awhirl. Is that what she really thought? That she wouldn’t survive this? The war couldn’t last forever, of that he was certain. And it certainly seemed as if they were making great progress in their fight against Corypheus. What could have her so worried? He’d never met anyone stronger or more determined in his life. It was part of what drew him to her that he knew. 

And yet, she was prepared to lay down her life for this fight? A fight she hadn’t even chosen to begin with? What could he do to ease her burden?

A soft click alerted him to the fact that someone had entered his office, he lifted his head wearily, as Leliana slipped in. 

“Come to throw another knife at my face?” he asked, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. 

She shook her head, blowing out a breath as she moved to join him at the desk. “I… apologize for throwing a dagger at you, Commander.” She leaned her slight weight against the edge of the desk, propping herself up with one hip. “It was not one of my finer moments.”

“Yes, well. I suppose neither one of us have been making great choices lately.” 

She laughed, a slight edge to it, and sighed again. “Cullen, I’m not truly angry at you. At least, not particularly at you. I’m angry at the situation. And I’m worried.”

“Worried?” he asked. “About me? Or the Inquisitor.” 

“ _ Both _ of you. I don’t want either of you to get hurt and this farce… it’s something that could end very, very badly.” 

Her eyes were filled with concern and Cullen was having trouble interpreting just what that signified. “Yes-“

Her hand on his cut off his train of thought. “You don’t really know, do you?” she asked him, searching his eyes for something. 

“Know what? If this is about the ceremony, obviously I  _ didn’t _ know –“

Again she cut in. “Not about the ceremony. About Lana. You don’t know.” 

“Leliana I’ve had about all I can take of mind games and word puzzles today. So, if you could just spell it out for me I’d greatly appreciate it.” He was flustered. And annoyed. And still so very angry. And he didn’t need another person on his office making it seem as if he was just too daft to comprehend the world around him. 

“She has feelings for you, Commander.”

_ Oh. _ Well, that was clear enough now wasn’t it? 

“When you say-“

“You daft man!” He was getting really sick of people cutting him off! “She flirts with you. She always comes to see you  _ first _ whenever she gets back from the field. She practically moons over you whenever you leave the room. If I see her staring at your arse one more time I might just explode! You must have noticed.” 

“Well… I’m not  _ stupid _ , Leliana. I just… wasn’t sure. And she never- Regardless, I thought that last night might have been the start of something but now, with this  _ marriage _ to deal with, I just don’t… How do you court your own wife, Leliana?” She had feelings for him. He knew she was attracted to him, but real feelings? That was wonderful news. Assuming she didn’t go out and get herself killed before he could do anything about it. 

“You court her the same way you’d court any woman you fancied. Flowers. Chocolates. Various pretties. The point is, Cullen, that you must not let this marriage stand in your way.” She stood then, pushing away from his desk and back towards the door. “You know that I am quite good at reading people. I feel… as if you two could be so  _ good _ together. 

He felt it too. But how… Maker help him, how was he going to convince her of that? 

“Oh, and Commander?” Leliana’s voice came floating through the open door. “Don’t forget to return to your new chambers this evening. We wouldn’t want to give anyone something to gossip over.” 

\--

Sometime before midnight he made his way back to the Inquisitor’s quarters. He didn’t knock before entering, his mind still mulling over his conversation with Leliana. The Inquisitor was probably asleep, anyway. 

He was firmly disabused of that notion, however, when the second dagger of the day came flying at his face. 

He dodged to the side but was too slow; the dagger nicked his temple before clattering angrily onto the ground. 

“Andraste’s tits!” he swore. He dabbed at the side of his head and grimaced when his hands came away red. 

“Cullen?” Lana rushed over to him. “Maker, I am so sorry! I didn’t realize it was you! You didn’t knock or ring the bell. Are you alright?” 

She grabbed his head firmly between two hands to get a better look at the wound. “Well, I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Come, sit. I’ll clean it up.” She guided him to the bed and pushed firmly at his shoulder to make him sit. Quickly, she gathered together water and clean linens and brought it over to the bed. 

“Twice today I’ve had beautiful women throw sharp weapons at my head. If you’re not careful, one of you will actually do me in.” 

Lana smiled at his remark and he felt himself relax a bit. She didn’t seem to be angry with him for storming out, so that was a good sign. 

Small, deadly hands dunked some linen into a bowl of water and she stepped close to tend to the wound. They weren’t really of a height when standing, but seated on the bed while she stood over him, he had a really great view of her neck. He’d never considered himself particularly partial to necks before, but he was learning all sorts of new things about himself this day. 

She was wearing sleep clothes, the linen shirt was large and shapeless, but the deep V of the neckline displayed the graceful column of her throat and just a hint of cleavage. He wasn’t sure where to look. Not down her shirt, of course, but looking up at her face was hardly better. 

She was squinting a bit in concentration as she pressed the bandage to his head. She was chewing on her bottom lip as she worked and it only made Cullen remember Leliana’s words.  _ She has feelings for you _ . 

“I’m very sorry, Commander. I didn’t expect you so late.” 

Her words were quiet, close as she was to him, and he could feel her breath on his ear. 

“I, uh. That is, I returned to my office to find it ransacked. I was informed that I was to move in here. Uh, with you.” 

At that, Lana pulled back to look at him. She studied his face for a moment and he found himself searching her eyes for any hint of her feelings on the situation. She shifted away from his gaze after a moment to turn back to his cut. “So that is why I now have two new sets of full plate decorating my apartments.” 

He cut his eyes to the left to try to take in her quarters. It was just as disheveled as his office. His jackets were still heaped onto the dressing dummy in the corner, his day boots were kicked off next to the desk, and boxes were stuffed into every available corner. “I apologize for the mess. I didn’t know-“

She gripped his chin firmly and forced his eyes up to meet hers. There was something wild in her eyes, determination perhaps, that he found exceptionally attractive. Unconsciously, he licked his lip, his eyes darting down to her mouth. 

“Cullen, please, listen to me. Last night was not your fault. I cannot possibly stand to hear you apologize to me one more time when I’m the one who-“ She broke away, dropping the bloodied cloth and his chin and took a few paces away from the bed. 

“Who, what?” he asked, standing up to follow. 

She was looking around the room, wild eyed, as if searching for a means of escape. But he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily. Not now, not when they were finally discussing what happened last night. 

He reached her with two long steps, gripping her elbow as if to keep her from fleeing. “You’re the one who what, Lana?” 

She looked up at him and then back towards the door before sighing, “Who wanted you to kiss me.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

“Who wanted you to kiss me.” She looked down to the hand gripping her elbow and then the breath was knocked out of her as Cullen’s other arm darted around her back to pull her close to him. 

He was breathing hard and searching her face for something before a mumbled, “Maker take me,” escaped his lips and then… then, he was kissing her and she forgot just what they were talking about. 

This time the kiss was so much better. It wasn’t for show. It wasn’t under the influence of alcohol. This time, he was kissing her and it was wonderful. 

She twined her arms up and around his neck, letting herself be pulled even closer as Cullen deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth and she moaned into it allowing him full access. 

Both of his large, warm hands were now on her back, fisting into her night shirt, tugging her ever closer. One hand slid down to her bottom and this, yes, this she remembered from last night as he gripped firmly. 

His other hand had started to ruck up the back of her shirt when the door slammed open startling them both. She jumped away from him as if burned as Sera came up the stairs at a dead run. 

“Oi! Inquisitor!” Sera must have noticed her disheveled state and the guilty look on Cullen’s face because she stopped just at the top of the stairs, not quite entering the room. “Wot’s this then? I’m interruptin’? Din’t know you liked it so rough, Cully-wully.” The smile on her face was absolutely  _ wicked _ as she looked between the two of them. 

“What?” Cullen demanded, startled. 

Lana looked to him and gasped, “Cullen, you’re bleeding again.” 

Sera’s grin was absolutely filthy as she spotted the dagger on the floor. “Knife play… eh? Never took you for a kink, eh? Not bad, Commander! Not bad a’tall!” 

“Sera!” Lana snapped as she moved back to the forgotten bandages. “Was there something you needed?” 

“Wot? Oh! Right, then. Blackwall’s disappeared. Seeker lady wanted me ta tell you straight away.”

Lana sighed and shooed Sera out the door, “Thank you. I’ll… deal with it when I can.” 

“Right. You’re awfully busy up here. I’ll just show ma own self out. Enjoy your… evenin’” She winked, and headed back down the stairs. “Bull’s ain’t gone to believe this one!” 

\--

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon before Lana was out the door, never having been so relieved to escape her apartments. After Sera’s interruption – and she still wasn’t sure if she was furious at the elf or thankful – she’d bandaged Cullen’s head, insisted he take the bed and then curled up on the settee to feign sleep. 

She had no idea what was happening between them. So, yes, she had a  _ slight _ crush on the Commander. And, yes, on the night of the ball she’d spent more than a little time thinking about what it would be like to be with him. Because Cullen – Cullen was one of those guys you could  _ be with _ . He’d keep you safe, and open doors for you, and he’d… be there. 

Part of her – most of her, if she was honest – wanted that desperately. Wanted to feel safe and loved and cherished. But there was a small sliver of her that was terrified. Terrified that if she allowed herself to stop focusing on the mission, to spend any time at all focusing on herself and her wants, she’d stumble. Become distracted. Fail. 

And if she failed the entire fate of Thedas hung in the balance. She couldn’t take that chance. 

When she reached the stables there was a letter from Blackwall and not much more. She ran into Cassandra there who told her that the guards had seen him leaving yesterday morning. The Seeker arched an eyebrow at her and commented wryly, “I can’t think why he would have chosen the morn of your wedding to disappear. Can you?” 

Lana came this close to slapping the Seeker. Crumpling the note in her fist, she turned on her heel, head held high and marched out of the stables. 

The first of Leliana’s scouts to come across her found Blackwall’s note thrust into his face, a curt “Find him” all the order he received. 

She had planned on stopping in the tavern for an ale and maybe some gossip to take her mind off things, but Maryden was singing a song about a handsome Commander and his beautiful bride and then the Iron Bull had raised a fist in her direction, winked knowingly, and shouted “Atta girl, boss!”. 

Entering the main hall once again she was nearly accosted by Varric who was demanding to know what had happened on the eve of the ball. For posterity, of course. 

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she stamped away from him like a petulant child and down into the Undercroft. 

Harritt barely turned to acknowledge her and Dagna looked up for just a moment, chirped a quick “Hi” and then was back to her work. 

“Do either of you have anything to say to me?” she demanded loudly. 

Both of them looked back up at her. Harritt grunted, but said nothing. Dagna took in a deep breath and then let it out in a stream of consciousness that Lana truly did not understand. Something about the taint and red lyrium? 

Well then, that would do just fine. Smiling to herself, Lana picked up a mallet and sat down at one of the work benches. No one would bother her down here and a little hard work was just what she needed to get her mind off things. 

\--

The bandage around Cullen’s head chafed something awful. Only one soldier had made the mistake of smiling a little too widely when he glanced at the wrappings and after Cullen swiftly and sternly assigned him to help Master Dennet in the stables, the rest of his soldiers learned to behave appropriately. 

His day passed very much like a normal day and at several points he had nearly forgotten about the precarious position he found himself in with regards to the Inquisitor. 

Around mid-day Leliana popped into his office and handed him a report. “Do you want the long version or the short version?” she asked, as he began to rifle through the pages. 

“Short.” 

“It seems that a certain Grey Warden was so distressed by the news of your recent marriage to our Lady Inquisitor that he’s left Skyhold and the Inquisition.” 

Cullen arched an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair at the news. “Really? Were he and Lana ever…?” 

“No. Not that I’m aware of, at least. I spoke to the Inquisitor about it only briefly and it appears that while she admits she might have flirted with the man once or twice it was nothing more than that.”

His stomach churned at the thought of Blackwall and Lana together and he was supremely aware that this level of jealousy was probably not a reaction that a normal person had upon learning that his fake wife had flirted with another man. A man with a terribly manly beard, Maker take him. 

“Do we know where he’s gone? And is it really any of our concern?” Cullen shifted in his seat. “If he’s feeling spurned by Lana, perhaps its best that he… stays away.” 

“That might be for the best. If, when looking for him, I hadn’t uncovered some most distressing news.” A pause.  “Blackwall is dead.” 

“Dead?!”

“For the last 5 years at least. Grey Warden Blackwall, the  _ real _ Grey Warden Blackwall was killed by bandits some time ago. Whoever this man was, he was  _ not _ Warden Blackwall.” 

Leliana’s tone was dark and dangerous. She was not pleased that something of this magnitude had escaped her eyes and ears. 

He tossed the folder down on the table and stood up. “Your suggestion then?”

“Find him. Learn what he knows. It’s possible he was some sort of spy, but I haven’t the faintest idea who he could have been working with. These are questions that I need answers to.” 

“I agree. Take whoever you need. I’ll speak with Lana about this… find out her thoughts on the matter.” 

It was Leliana’s turn to arch a brow, “Is that wise? Considering your present… relationship?” 

Cullen really needed to do something about the blush that seemed to cover his face at the most inopportune times. “It will be fine, Leliana. She’ll speak with me.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The Inquisitor was not in the War Room. She was not visiting Dorian nor was she in the tavern with Bull or Sera. And she was definitely not in her quarters. 

Looking around the room, Cullen took in the mess with a sigh. Military life had instilled a neatness in him that was hard to shake. This would never do. 

Pulling off his cape, he hung it on a hook near the bed and set to straightening up the room. Sure, he could have had some of Skyhold’s staff take care of it, but for some reason he felt compelled to do the work himself. These were his things. His and Lana’s. It wasn’t right to have someone else rifling through them. 

He made the bed first and then moved on to his armor. There were two wooden stands propped against one wall that he straightened and dressed. It wouldn’t do to have his plate all jumbled about should he need it. Boxes of trinkets or mementos were stacked neatly in the storage closet to be dealt with later. Though he did pull out a few small things. Gifts from his sister, mostly.  

Lastly, he tackled the chests of clothes. Whoever had packed them up had done a decent job folding them, but he took the time to shake them out and hang them up in the proper wardrobe that stood against another wall. He took his hand away from the last jacket and sighed, a small smile of contentment stealing over his face. Seeing his jackets hung next to Lana’s dresses started something stirring in his belly, some emotion he couldn’t quite grasp. 

He didn’t have time to ponder it, though, because just as he clicked the wardrobe shut Lana ascended the stairs. 

Cullen hadn’t seen her all day, she had been gone before he arose. She was back to the usual uniform she favored around Skyhold, tight leather trousers, knee high boots, and a button-front shirt. Her hair was in disarray and the soot on her clothes informed Cullen pretty clearly that she had been in the Undercroft. 

“Cullen,” she said, clearly startled to see him. “I had thought you’d be in your office.” As she moved further into the room, though, her eyes widened. “Did you do this? Clean up?” 

“Uh, do you like it? I just thought it might… make things easier.”  _ Stupid.  _ How would a tidy room make any of this any easier? 

“Its… lovely,” she told him. He glanced at her face to try to gauge the truth to her words and was pleased to see a small smile gracing her lips. 

“You look lovely.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain registered what he was saying. 

“Cullen.” Maker help him he absolutely loved the way her name sounded on her lips. “Do you think we might be able to talk. Without getting interrupted by nosy elves or flying daggers?” 

He nodded. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.” 

\--

Cullen motioned for her to have a seat and then bounded down the stairs. Grabbing the first soldier he saw he stationed him at the door to their quarters and asked him to turn away anyone who tried to enter. 

Taking the steps two at a time, he was back upstairs in just a flash. 

Lana’s back was to him, but she turned at his approach. Sitting on the settee she gestured for him to join her. She looked uncertain and he felt for sure his face was a mirror of her own. Maker, this should not be so difficult. 

He sat down next to her and smiled tentatively, “Lana, this… thing between us. It’s really. That is – I… like… being with you. Spending time with you.” Words. He was so bad at words. 

She smiled at him, eyes sparkling, “I like spending time with you, too. It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.” She motioned between them, “Us. I’m not… I’m terrified I’m going to muck this all up.” 

“Well that makes two of us then.” He tried to make his tone, light, teasing, and her lip quirked up in the corner at his declaration. 

“So… That leaves us where?” 

“Hmm… let’s see, shall we? I like spending time with you and you like spending time with me so perhaps… we can just-”

“Spend time together?” She laughed. But it wasn’t a nervous laugh. Instead, it held a touch of relief.  _ He liked her _ . 

He smiled at her, and Maker could she get lost in that smile. But abruptly his smile faded and a panicky  _ now what have I done? _ flitted through her mind. He took her hands in his. Warm hands. Strong hands. 

“There is something else I would like to talk to you about,” he had on his Commander face now. This couldn’t be good. 

“If it’s about Blackwall-” 

He cut her off, “No.” A squeeze of her hands. “It’s not about… whatever you and he had together-” 

“Nothing!” she blurted, too fast. “ _ Nothing _ . I, once… he, it was very cold you see.” 

Cullen dropped her hands from his and waved her off. “No, that’s not, let’s stop interrupting each other for one minute, shall we?” 

She nodded, afraid to speak. He didn’t pick her hands back up again. 

He continued with a sigh. “The other night, you mentioned that you thought you’d die fighting Corypheus and-” Lana opened her mouth to cut him off again, but snapped it shut when he gave her a disapproving look, “-and I want you to know. That is, I thought you knew.  If you have to face him again…” he sighed and worked a hand through his hair, loosening the curls. She touched his arm tentatively. 

“Cullen?” 

He huffed out a breath, “It won’t be alone, Lana.” Resolve passed across his features and he looked down at her, meeting her eyes. “You will never have to face him alone, again.” 

She met his gaze and studied his face for a moment. Searching for...something. Then she nodded and took his hands in hers once more. “Never again,” she repeated. 


End file.
